


All of the Sinners

by awriter_fromspace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:27:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23816122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awriter_fromspace/pseuds/awriter_fromspace
Summary: A universe in which Sam gives in so fully to his darkness that he is turned into a demon and the same happens to Dean, except he's an angel.They may be on different sides now, but they're still getting together secretly. This is a little look into one of their "meetings" ;)~Basically just Wincest smut~
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Demon Sam/Angel Dean, Top!Dean/Bottom!Sam - Relationship, Wincest
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	All of the Sinners

He walks into the church with the same apprehension as usual. Even after all these months he still gets butterflies walking in, scared the old stories are true. A slight tingle moves up his arms as if anticipating a fire that will never come. 

Shaking off the feeling Sam moves further into the church. He takes in the high ceilings as he walks down the aisle. There was a time when Sam thought he'd walk down this aisle for a different reason, that a girl in white would be waiting at the end, instead of _him_. Instead of the man who just materialized at the altar. But seeing him, it makes all Sam's other thoughts disappear and his memories seem like another life. 

"Sammy," he calls with a big grin. And it hits Sam like a train, like always, that he's an angel. 

Sam feels his heart speed up and lets the panic rise and swallow him for a second. He shouldn't be here. With an angel. Doing this of all things. But the light playing on his skin distracts Sam from his fear and he smiles back. "Hey, Dean."

Without speaking Dean gives him the sweetest of greetings, an innocence in it that belies their reason for being there, and leads him into the confessional. Sam enters the sinner's side, eternally uncomfortable with the opposite, and Dean follows him in. 

It's cramped, the space barely big enough for one grown person, let alone two, but this is Dean's favorite place for this, because Sam may be a demon but Dean has the dirtiest mind, and they've done this so often the last few months they know exactly where to stand. Dean doesn't hesitate to push Sam against the back of the little box, favoring action over words as he initiates their ritual. 

First contact for Sam is always volatile. When he became a demon every single cell in his body was claimed, now those same cells scream and fight against the being on his lips, the one he's supposed to hate. It's like an animal is caged inside him and the closer this angel gets the more it bares its claws. He swears even his horns are trying to break through the skin of his meat suit. Dean has told him that for him it's pure light attempting to escape from inside him in the form of raw power. Sometimes he lets some of it through and Sam loves it but he's also glad he's not human. But somehow the longer he's in Dean's presence, the longer their lips stay together, the calmer his beast becomes. 

Dean shifts then, simultaneously moves to grab Sam's ass and lick into his mouth. Sam moans. Despite everything he's done as a demon he would still call this the dirtiest, the most wrong and without fail it turns him on. He grabs back, leans into Dean, into the ghost of hands moving up his body. 

Every time they do this Sam thinks maybe it'll be different. Less intense or more controlled. Next time he won't fall so quickly or drown in Dean's presence. But it's never less. Dean always forces an insanity to slowly creep into him, somehow starts an itch deep inside him that only Dean himself can even find. That's how he ends up facing the wall, pants pooled at his ankles, Dean's hand shoving his shirt up, playing with his skin. Every time. 

Slowly, forcing the anticipation on Sam, he licks down his back. Teasing, torturing, as if their roles were reversed. And finally, Dean drops all the way down. Sam can't believe how clearly he can feel it happening, almost as if he can see Dean licking into him. He moans again because in the face of Dean's mouth it's all he can really do. 

It doesn't take long for Dean to unravel him, to leave him shaking so hard he feels he'll fall apart. Sam is on the edge, about to lose all semblance of control, when Dean pulls away. It takes him a moment just to get his breathing back to normal. Slowly he turns around to face Dean who's pulling off his shirt and without thinking Sam's hands move to work on Dean's jeans. The angel gives no indication of having noticed except for the slightest hitch in his breathing and it's all the encouragement Sam needs to drop to his knees before him. 

Sam doesn't do this often and it's still so unnatural to him, but the way Dean loses his careful control is worth it. Unlike Sam, Dean falls apart slowly and by degrees, fighting the entire way. But eventually, Sam feels the end of the battle, and a salty tang bursts across his tongue. He pulls away from Dean with a pop and laps away the excess. He's sitting back on his heels, licking his lips, when he notices Dean watching him. 

"Get up," Dean orders in a rough voice, and Sam's every instinct is not to, but he obeys. He hasn't drawn to his full height before Dean's kissing him again and forcing Sam's clothes off. It's an awkward angle but it still sets a fire that burns from his inside out. He barely has the time to breathe before Dean's spun him back against the wall, face and chest pressed hard against the dark wood. 

Sam is sure the next part should be fast and hard, relentless even, but Dean's never done it that way. He always starts slow, somehow knowing exactly how to drive Sam mad and to the edge, holding him there without pushing him off. It starts with slow little kisses trailing all over Sam's neck that build to sucks and bites. Dean leaves a constellation of red marks and bruises in his wake, turning Sam back into a shivering, stuttering mess long before Dean sneaks one of his fingers into him. Like with everything, Dean starts slow, pushing deep before crooking his finger but that's exactly what makes Sam's knees give out and he stays up only because Dean's got him so tightly pinned to the wall.

Everything Dean does is measured but it still doesn't take long for Sam to be pushing back, shamelessly, against the three fingers playing deep inside him. A deep groan is pulled from somewhere inside Sam and it seems to be the queue for Dean to replace his fingers with something bigger. Sam hates waiting, but he's learned not to fight Dean here, a sacred little moment that the older man takes, still as a prayer before pushing into Sam, slow and steady as always. When he's all the way in, Dean leans into his shoulder and presses a kiss into his neck. A sweet sort of promise for what comes next.

Dean loses his composure suddenly, letting go all at once, and setting a quick, deep pace. Sam leans into it enthusiastically, more comfortable with this part of the whole experience, matching Dean at every thrust. It all falls apart quickly after that, having already built up to this they're both ready to fall from that edge again, and it doesn't take long before they're falling. Sam never thinks about it, avoids the entire affair by tiptoeing around it when his mind brings it up, but they cum together. Dean is just mindful enough, when it begins to take him over, to flip them around and sit them on the bench. They've both done this enough to know how hard it hits them both.

Sam opens his eyes slowly, trying to blink away the fog and struggles against heavy bones to sit up. Dean blinks into awareness just as slowly below him.

"Sam." Comes the deep grumble, as if he's just woken up from some deep sleep, and hands that have no business being as soft as they are come up to rest gently on his hips.

All Sam can think to do is nod. "Thanks again," he says and pats Dean's knee before inelegantly standing up, breaking the points of contact between them and reaching for his pants.

There's a moment of silence, Sam's skin prickling where he knows Dean is staring at him, before Dean gives a tired, almost inaudible, "yeah." But before Sam can turn to look at him Dean is collecting his own clothes and tugging things on.

Fully dressed, Sam turns to him, caught up in his own thoughts. "Ahh... Dean... I mean, you know we can't..." But he's never been able to complete the thought, let alone say it out loud.

Still, he knows Dean understands and the angel, looking for all the world like the sad, broken man he used to be, simply nods and sighs, avoiding eye contact.

Sam knows Dean can't see it but he can't help but nod back at him as he steps out, "I'll see you later, Dean."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3  
> Title from a song: Unbelievers by Vampire Weekend ^.^


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